The Case of the Mock Murder
by kaleen1212
Summary: When Police Detective Frank Rousseau is killed in what is supposed to be a mock murder at a police convention, Robert Ironside and Perry Mason step in to defend the young man accused of the murder.
1. Chapter 1

_The Case of the Mock Murder_

_Disclaimer: The Ironside characters are the creation of Collier Young and the Perry Mason Characters were created by Erle Stanley Gardner. All other characters were created in my imagination for the purpose of telling this story. I make no profit from this fan fiction. I am only borrowing the characters so that Ironside and Perry Mason may live on in the hearts and minds of fan fiction readers._

_As always, my stories follow a timeline that does not necessarily follow the timeline of either show. They are written in the present and not when the shows were on the air._

_I have no legal training. I ask that you forgive any legal errors that may appear. Since it is partly Perry Mason, I just cannot envision a story without courtroom scenes._

_I hope you enjoy the story. Reviews are welcome._

**The Case of the Mock Murder**

**Chapter 1**

1.1

"Della, can you come in here, please," Perry spoke into the intercom. He turned back to his newspaper and continued reading. The door to his office opened and Della came in.

"Yes, Perry. What is it?"

"Did you see the San Francisco Chronicle?" Perry stood up, picked the paper up and walked around to the front of his desk. Sitting down on the edge of it, he handed the paper to his Girl Friday.

Without bothering to read it, Della handed it back to him. "I read it before you came back from court. Your brother solved another big case."

"Scrabble Spells Murder. The man was not very smart thinking he could put clues on a Scrabble board that Bob Ironside could not solve."*

Della smiled. "Fortunately, neither he nor any of his staff were harmed. Commissioner Randall certainly hands him the most dangerous cases."

"That is because no one else can solve them fast enough to suit the commissioner or the city council."

"Not to change the subject but you just solved a big case of your own."

"Lt. Tragg was not guilty of that murder.** I could not allow him to be convicted of a crime that he did not commit," Perry said.

"Do you suppose he will give you a break the next time you or Paul discover a body?"

Perry chuckled. "Don't bet on it." He picked the San Francisco paper back up. "Bob certainly got a lot of coverage on this one."

"You got plenty of press on Tragg's case, Perry."

"It is not a competition between Bob and me as to who solves the most cases or gets the most publicity, Della."

"You would never know that when the two of you are together."

"He brings out the competitive spirit in me," Perry grinned.

She chuckled and picked up his empty coffee cup. "I'll get you another cup of coffee and then we will do the mail."

Perry's intercom buzzed. Della walked back and pressed the speaker button. "Yes, Gertie."

"Lt. Tragg is here. He would like to speak to Mr. Mason."

Perry nodded to Della. "Send him in, Gertie."

The door opened and Lt. Arthur Tragg walked in. "Hello, Perry… Della."

Perry met him in the middle of the room and extended his hand. "Hello, Tragg."

Lt. Tragg shook Perry's hand and said, "I was wondering if I could impose upon you?"

"That depends," Perry smiled. "What kind of an imposition?"

"I am sure you know that the police convention is being held at the civic center."

"Yes, I am aware of it. Bob attends it every year. I haven't heard from him about it but I am assuming he is attending again this year."

"Yes, in fact, he is. I am sure he will be contacting you about it shortly."

"Alright then what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could talk you into being one of the guest speakers this year."

"I will be happy to, Lieutenant if it can be fit into my schedule. Give Della the date."

Della took a piece of paper from the lieutenant and left the office.

"Perry, I have a check for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled a handwritten check and pushed it toward the lawyer. "It is the rest of the money I owe you for defending me."

"I told you to forget it. The first check you gave Della was enough."

"First of all, Counselor, you make a lousy liar. The first check I gave you would not begin to cover your services. You see, I have an idea of what you charge. Secondly, I have said things in the past that, well… I meant at the time but it was before I got to know you. What I am trying to say is I appreciate the way you came to my defense... and without even being asked to."

"Forget it, Lieutenant. The past is past and I knew you were not guilty of murder. You would do the same for me."

"I would but I am not so sure about Hamilton. He is tired of being beaten by you." Tragg and Mason laughed.

"I think this is one time he was happy to lose the case," Perry said with a smile.

Della walked back into the office. "That date was not open but I called the court and was able to reschedule one of Perry's cases. He is free to speak at your convention."

Tragg smiled at her. "Thank you, Della. Now that I have accomplished what I came here for, I will get back to work. I will be in touch with you about the schedule." Tragg turned to leave but immediately turned back. "I almost forgot to tell you that our other guest speaker will be Frank Rousseau of the Montreal Police Department. He is a friend of your brother's so you can be sure Chief Ironside will be coming." With that, Tragg left Perry's office.

"Alright, Perry, let's get the mail done," Della said.

Perry cringed. "Della, it is almost five o'clock. We will never get it done by then so why don't we let it wait until tomorrow."

"Since when do we observe office hours around here?" she asked.

"Look, we do not have to be in court tomorrow and if memory serves me right, I believe the entire morning is open tomorrow. We can do the mail then. For letting it wait, I am willing to take you out for a steak dinner, drinks and dancing. Just you and me."

Della closed the distance between them. "Are you trying to bribe me, Mr. Mason?"

"Well… no… actually, yes. Is it working?" He reached for her and pulled her up against him.

Della laughed. "You will try anything to get out of the mail."

"Almost anything," he grinned.

Paul's code knock sounded on the door. Perry and Della parted as she walked over to the door to let him in.

Paul grinned and said, "Hello, Beautiful."

"Hello, Paul," Della said, returning his greeting.

"Hi, Perry. I was just finishing up. I was wondering if you two wanted to go out for a steak dinner and some dancing. You will have to share the dancing, though."

Perry quickly glanced over at Della who shrugged her shoulders. Leave it to Paul to interrupt an evening alone with Della. "We'll have dinner with you but no dancing."

Paul looked disappointed. "Since when do you forbid Della from dancing with me?"

"I was referring to me. Della doesn't share me with anyone else. Besides, I don't want to dance with you anyway." Della started laughing.

Paul grinned. "That is fine by me. I don't want my toes stepped on. Now whose turn is it to spring for dinner?"

"Yours," Della and Perry said at the same time."

"But I thought I paid last time."

"That is not the way I remember it," Perry said.

"Me neither," Della joined in.

Paul pouted. "Well, alright, dinner is on me but you are buying the booze, pal."

"Not with the way you drink," Perry quipped.

Della laughed at them. She took each one of them by the arm. "Let's go, gentlemen," I am hungry."

1.2

Ironside watched as his staff stared at their cards. He had just raised the bet by two dollars. He looked at Eve who had been sitting there for a couple of minutes looking at her cards. "Eve, you have three choices… call, raise or fold. No matter how long you stare at those cards, they will not change." Ed and Mark chuckled.

"I am trying to determine if you are bluffing," she said.

"And how long will it take you to determine that?" Ironside barked.

"As long as it takes," she replied.

"Mark, get me a drink. Officer Whitfield is driving me to it."

Mark got up, went to the kitchen, pulled down a bottle of bourbon and poured the boss a drink. He walked back with the bottle and set it on the table. He set the glass in front of Ironside.

"I pass," Eve said.

Ironside shook his head. You can't pass… I raised the pot."

"Oh, then… I call," Eve said.

Ironside looked to Ed. "Well?"

Ed threw in his hand. "I'm out."

"That leaves it up to you, Mark," Ironside said.

Mark looked up at his boss. He could not read his poker face. It was the same face that made criminals tremble in his presence. Finally, he threw in his hand.

Ironside turned up his hand and dropped three jacks and two kings on the table. He looked up at Eve who had a big grin on her face.

"I knew you were bluffing." She turned her hand up and displayed three aces. As she went to take the pot, Ironside placed his hand over hers.

"Miss Whitfield, what do you think you are doing?"

"I am taking my winnings. I had three aces to your three jacks," she said as she tried again to take the pot. Ed and Mark were grinning.

"Since when do three aces beat a full house?" Ironside asked.

"But aces are higher than jacks," Eve protested.

"There is a little matter of the two kings," he snarled. "That makes it a full house."

"You mean I lost?"

"You lost," Ironside said as he pulled in the pot.

"I don't understand this game. Why don't we play Hearts or Old Maid?" she complained.

"Old Maid?" Ironside said sarcastically. "You aren't old enough… yet." Ed and Mark laughed.

"Ed, it's your deal," Ironside said.

"I'm done for the night, Chief. I am down ten bucks."

Ironside looked at Mark. "Are you going to take your money and run too?"

"What money? I'm down twenty bucks. I don't get paid until Friday and I don't make that much."

"Are you going to start that again," Ironside growled.

Eve picked up the cards. "I'll play another hand. I have to win back the money you took from me. It's your deal, Chief." She handed the cards to him.

He took them, looked at Eve and threw them into the middle of the table. "That would be like taking candy from a baby. Let's call it a night."

Ironside sipped his bourbon as the phone rang. Mark picked it up and greeted the caller, "Chief Ironside's office."

"Hello, Mark. Is my father there?" Robert Duvalier asked.***

"Yes, hang on," Mark told him. He handed the phone to Ironside.

"Ironside," he barked.

"Papa, I see you solved the Scrabble murders. It hit the papers up here," Robert said.

"Hello, Robert. Yes, he was bound to make a mistake sooner or later. Are you going to Los Angeles with Frank for the police convention?"

"Yes, Papa," Robert told him. "I just wanted to be sure you were going to be there."

"I'll be there."

"Good, I trust we can have dinner while we are there, yes?"

"Of course. I look forward to it. You can meet your uncle. Tragg called earlier to tell me that Perry will be one of the keynote speakers."

Robert smiled. "It's funny. I have heard you talk about him but it never even occurred to me that he is my uncle. It makes me proud to know that I am related to such a man."

"You better hold your judgment until after you meet him. Remember, he's a shyster lawyer," Ironside said, causing Robert to laugh.

"Like I withheld my judgment of you?" he questioned.

"Withheld? Seems to me you said you didn't need my help. You called me, English," Ironside imitated Robert's French Canadian accent.

Robert laughed. "And you are still English."

"So are you… at least half English. " Ironside turned serious. "How's your mother?"

"She is doing well, Papa. She is taking it a day at a time. She still loves you."

"I know, son, but there is nothing I can do about it except stay away."

"Yes, I understand. I'll call you when I get to Los Angeles."

"I'll have a room at the Regency for you."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Papa."

"Goodbye, Robert." Ironside hung up the phone.

"Chief, when is the police convention?" Eve asked.

"Next week."

"I suppose Mark gets to go with you," Ed surmised.

"Yes."

"And we have to stay here and mind the store," Eve groaned.

"Actually, no. I have a surprise for you. I spoke with Dennis and he has agreed to allow you and Ed to come with me. Fran Belding will be assigned to run our office while we are away."

Ed and Eve perked up.

"It has been a while since I have been to Los Angeles. I can't wait to go shopping," Eve said excitedly.

"Of course, Eve. You certainly don't have enough clothes," Ironside said with sarcasm. Mark and Ed were grinning.

"Chief, you can never have enough clothes."

He shook his head. "If you good people will get out of here, I think I will turn in. We still have some work to do before we leave here on Saturday."

Ed and Eve got up, said goodnight to Mark and the chief, and then left the office.

Mark started clearing the table of empty glasses and left over potato chips. Ironside picked up the cards and put them back into the box. He collected his winnings and wheeled over to the desk. Opening the drawer, he placed the money in it for safekeeping.

"Chief, why is it you always win when we play poker with you?" Mark asked with suspicion.

"Because all three of you are lousy poker players," Ironside said. "I am surprised you play at all. You might just as well hand me the money before the game even starts."

"Go ahead, oh wise one, brag away but one of these days I am going to beat you."

"You three would not beat me if I were old and senile," he said in a parting shot as he wheeled toward his bedroom.

1.3

Robert hung up the phone from talking to his father. When he turned around, his mother, Jeanine Duvalier was standing in the doorway.

"That was your father, yes?"

"Yes, Mama, it was." Robert did not want to hurt her. He never mentioned Ironside around her. The minute his name was mentioned, he could see the hurt in her eyes.

"How is he?"

"He is fine."

"And how is Barbara?" she asked.

Robert turned to look at her. He had not told her that Ironside and Barbara had split up. "He is not seeing her anymore. She decided she could not live with his job."

He saw the look in her eye that looked like hope, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "He is seeing another woman by the name of Katherine Denuerve."

Jeanine dropped her eyes from Robert. "Yes, I believe I met her in Robert's office when I arrived in San Francisco."

"I am going to the police convention in Los Angeles. I just called my father to find out if he is going to be attending."

"And is he?"

"He is. We are going to spend some time together when I get there."

Jeanine smiled. "I am happy you are getting to know your father. He is a good man, Robert."

"I know, Mama."

"Oh, I almost forgot. This was delivered for you about an hour ago." She walked over to him and handed him a telegram. "I think I will go to bed. Goodnight, Robert."

"Goodnight, Mama." Robert watched his mother leave. Once again, he could see the pain in her eyes. He wondered if she would ever get over his father.

He opened the envelope and read:

_So, you are going to Los Angeles to visit Ironside. The three of you will pay for what you have done. One of you will not leave Los Angeles alive._

Robert stared at the telegram. Who could have written it? And who were the three that were referred to in it? He assumed he and his father were two of them but who was the third? Perry Mason… Frank Rousseau? He could not be sure. He wanted to call his father right back but his voice had sounded tired. He figured he had gone to bed. Robert supposed it could wait until morning… but only until then. His father must learn of this telegram as soon as possible before this pleasure trip turned into a nightmare.

1.4

Andy Anderson stuck his head into Lt. Tragg's office. "Are you still here, Lieutenant?"

"No, I am just a figment of your imagination," Tragg said, sarcastically.

"Sounds to me like you need to go home and get some rest."

"I don't need rest. I am so far behind because of that damn trial."

"It is behind you now. You need to forget it and move on, Arthur," Andy said quietly.

"Ha, easy for you to say." Tragg rubbed his eyes. "Every time I go home thinking I am going to get some rest, Mason or Drake discover another dead body."

Andy laughed. "I don't think Perry has a criminal case going right now. Holcomb said he saw the two of them out drinking and dancing with Della tonight."

Tragg smiled. "Good for them. They deserve a night off."

"How long is this goodwill between you and Perry and Paul going to last?"

"Until one of them… "

"Discovers another dead body," Andy finished for him. He laughed with Tragg and then said, "I am out of here. My shift is done. Unlike Perry, I am not going to dance until dawn. I am going home and hit the sack. I suggest you do the same."

"Yea, I will as soon as I finish up this paperwork," Tragg said. He waved off Anderson who left his office. Within an hour, he had completed the last of the paperwork.

Tragg grabbed his suit coat and put it on. He turned out the lights in his office and shut the door. As he was locking it, Hamilton Burger approached him. "Would you like to go for a drink, Arthur?"

Tragg turned to see the District Attorney standing there with a smile on his face. "Hamilton, you did what you had to do. Stop apologizing."

"I am not apologizing. I am actually happy I lost that case. Now what about that drink?"

"Another time maybe. I am just plain beat tonight. I think I'll just go home and go to bed," Tragg answered.

"Alright. Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Hamilton Burger left Tragg and headed down the hall.

Lt. Tragg left the building and got into his car. He was so preoccupied that he did not notice he was being followed. He did not glance in his rearview mirror as he always did when traveling alone, especially at night. He drove his vehicle home and pulled into the driveway. Hitting the remote, the garage door opened. He pulled the car in and shut the door.

When he opened the door into the kitchen, his senses went on high alert. He had left the kitchen light on and now it was off. The lieutenant pulled out his service revolver. Slowly, he made his way toward the kitchen light. He flipped the switch. The light turned on. Tragg checked each room in the house but found no one and nothing had been disturbed.

He went back into the kitchen. It was then he noticed an envelope on the kitchen table. He picked it up, opened it and unfolded the telegram.

_Someone is going to die at the police convention. You are not going to be able to stop it. It will happened in front of dozens of police and none of you will stop it because no one will suspect me of harming the man who will die. I will not be able to get away but I will have killed a man who deserves it and that will be my salvation._

Tragg stared at the telegram. He set it down on the table, folded it and put it back into the envelope as he attempted not to touch anything but the edges. Grabbing his keys, he headed back to his car. At least he wasn't going back because Mason had discovered a dead body. It wasn't much consolation.

1.5

He watched as Tragg pulled out of his driveway and headed down the street. Smiling as he drove away, he walked to his car and got in. The plan was in motion. He intended to make all of them pay. The murder would take place. Tragg would try to stop it but he would not be able to do so.

No one would suspect who would be doing the shooting. He would be above suspicion. Not even he would realize before it was too late that he would be committing murder. He would shoot him in front of a hall full of police. Tragg would have no choice but to charge him with murder. Everything that he had put in place would send him to the death penalty. That is how he would hurt him. It was only a beginning. He would do much more before he was finished.

1.6

Perry and Della arrived at his apartment at two in the morning. Perry unlocked the key, turned off the away setting on the alarm and then turned it right back on with the stay setting. He pulled Della into his arms. "I wanted the evening alone with you."

'Didn't you enjoy Paul's company?"

"I always enjoy his company but I wanted to hold you in my arms all night while we danced."

"All night? Then why are we back here at two o'clock?"

"Because I knew Paul could not join us for what I have planned," he said as he kissed her.

Della broke the kiss when she noticed an envelope on the kitchen table with Perry's name on it. "Perry, that was not there when we left this morning."

Perry let go of Della and walked over to the table. He picked up the envelope, opened it and unfolded the telegram.

_Someone will die at the police convention. It cannot be prevented. You will not defend the man who kills the cop. If you do, you will die as well._

"Perry, how did this get in here? No one has the code to your alarm but you and me."

"I do not know, Della." He stepped over to the phone and dialed the police station. "I want to talk to Lieutenant Tragg."

_*Refers to my fan fiction story, Scrabble Spells Murder (in progress. Since I write on a timeline, this would follow that story.)_

_**Refers to the fan fiction story, The Case of the Set Up Cop (also in progress. This would also follow that story as both cases were being solved by the brothers, separately at the same time.)_

_***Robert Duvalier was introduced in the Ironside episode, Check Mate; and Murder. He was revealed as Ironside's son in the timeline of my fan fiction, Checkmate and Terror._


	2. Chapter 2

The Case of the Mock Murder

Chapter 2

2.1

"There is no reason for you to go too, Della," Mason told her. "Go to bed. I will be back as soon as I can. I want to let Tragg know what is going on. He was not at home but Andy told me he was probably heading into the station."

"Alright, I'll stay but don't stay with Tragg any longer than necessary. You need rest, Perry. Tomorrow you are going to have to start on that speech for the police convention and you will have to do it in between appointments."

He smiled. "Sounds like the usual rushed, try-to-get-it-all-in-day that we are used to." Perry bent down and kissed her. "Don't wait up for me." He turned and left his apartment. He could feel Della's eyes watching him as he walked away from her.

He rode the elevator down to the garage. It was quiet this time of night. He was not crazy about the idea of leaving a beautiful woman in his apartment to have to go out to meet Lt. Tragg but he knew this was important. He had to let him know about the potential danger at the police convention.

Perry entered the parking garage in his apartment building. As he came out the door, he felt a stinging pain in the back of his head and everything went black.

He bent down over Perry Mason. Searching his suit coat pockets, he found what he was looking for. He opened the envelope located in Mason's pocket. He unfolded the telegram and smiled. This was it. This is what he needed. Now, he had to get back the other one.

2.2

"Robert, it is getting late. You do remember that you are not a cop yet?" Frank Rousseau asked the young man.

"Frank, I received a telegram a little while ago. I have been trying to track it down. So far, I have been unable to find out where it was issued."

"I do not recall assigning you anything that involved a telegram."

"No sir, you didn't. I received this telegram a little over an hour ago. I think you should read it." Robert handed the telegram to Frank.

Rousseau took it from him and read it. 'So, you are going to Los Angeles to visit Ironside. '**_The three of you will pay for what you have done. One of you will not leave Los Angeles alive.'_** He looked at Robert with a frown on his face. "Why didn't you show this to me immediately?"

"I told you I have been trying to track down where it came from. But I have checked every telegram company in the city and it does not appear that any of them sent this telegram to me."

"Have you contacted Lieutenant Tragg in Los Angeles?"

"Not yet. I still have a couple of companies outside of Montreal that I want to check before I do so."

"I don't think you should wait. Call the lieutenant immediately. He is in charge of security at the police convention. This is definitely something he should know about. Both you and Bob Ironside could be in danger. From that telegram, we don't know who the third person is."

"An educated guess would be you," Robert suggested.

"Then you think someone from the revolution movement is behind this?"

"It is certainly a possibility. However, we do not have enough evidence to substantiate that fact."

Frank stepped to the nearest phone. He picked it up and dialed long distance to Los Angeles, California. "I need to speak with Lieutenant Tragg."

"I am sorry, sir. Lieutenant Tragg has gone home for the night. He will be back in at nine o'clock tomorrow morning if you would like to speak with him. If you would like, I will take a message," the sergeant told him.

"No thank you. I will call him back in the morning. On second thought, just tell him that Frank Rousseau from Montreal called. Tell him I need to speak with him. It is very important."

"Yes, sir. I will let him know."

Frank returned the phone to the cradle. He looked back at Robert. "We need to call him the first thing in the morning. In the meantime, see if you can find out anything about that telegram. I suggest that you contact your father and let him know about it as well."

"I didn't call him because I did not want him to worry," said Robert.

"He's an old pro, son. He will know how to handle it. Call him. That's an order, Robert."

"Robert smiled. " All right, Frank, I will let him know about it. Are you calling it a night?"

"No, I have some checking to do on a possible bombing by the revolution. I'll see you in the morning." Frank turned and left his office.

Robert thought about his father. He had not known him that long. In fact, he had not even known he was his father until recently. His mother had been forced to reveal to Robert Ironside that he was his son. Robert had believed all of his life that Jacque Duvalier was his father. He had not known of the affair between his mother and Robert Ironside.

Jeanine Duvalier did not tell Ironside about the pregnancy let alone that he was Robert's father. She had only told him after Pierre Fougere had kidnapped Robert and threaten to blow him and the entire city of San Francisco up with a nuclear bomb.

His father had found him in time and defused the bomb. Robert was happy they had decided to stay in touch as father and son. Although, he had spoken with his father on the phone on several occasions, he had not seen him since that time in San Francisco. He was looking forward to spending some time with him and catching up.

Robert reached for the phone. He had long since memorized the phone number to police headquarters in San Francisco where his father both lived and worked. He dialed his number and waited for an answer. He hoped he would not be waking him. This was the second time today that he had made a call to him.

"Hello," said the familiar gruff voice. Robert could tell that he indeed had awoken him.

"Papa, forgive me for bothering you so late but it is imperative that I speak with you."

Ironside could hear the urgency in his son's voice. He was now wide-awake. "What is it Robert? What's wrong?"

Robert could not help but smile. His father was considered the best detective in the country and it was no wonder why. He had deduced from the sound of his voice that something was wrong. And, he was right. "I received a telegram I think you should know about." He read the telegram to his father and waited for his reaction.

"Did you call Lieutenant Tragg?" Ironside inquired.

"Frank did but he was not in. He had gone home for the day. I told him I would call him first thing in the morning." Robert reported.

"See that you do. In the meantime, I presume that you checked on the telegram itself as to where it was issued?"

Robert informed his father exactly what he had told Frank about locating where the telegram had been issued.

"It must have contained the name of the company," Ironside said.

"It had been torn, Papa. The company name was what had been removed."

"That is just a bit too convenient, don't you think?"

"I agree. However, I did check with each company to see if they recognize the paper on which it had been typed. All of them said that the telegram had not been issued from their office."

"What about the surrounding area?" asked Ironside.

"I am just about to check on that now," Robert responded.

"Keep me informed, son."

"I will, Papa." Robert hesitated for a moment and then said, "You do know who is being referred to in this telegram, don't you?"

"Of course I do. It is obviously someone in your revolution that holds a grudge against both of us. The third person is probably Frank."

"That is what both Frank and I thought as well. I better get going. I will call you tomorrow."

"Be careful, Robert."

"I will. Goodnight, Papa." Robert smiled and shook his head as the line had gone dead. His father had a habit of never saying goodbye before hanging up the phone.

2.3

Lieutenant Andy Anderson was on his way home. He had had a long day and was looking forward to a good night's sleep. He did not know why but he was taking the long way home. Just down the street was the apartment building that Perry Mason lived in. Andy thought back to the time that Perry Mason opened his office is in the Brent Building. He remembered how many in the police department thought Mason was crooked. They felt he would do anything to get his client off, legal or not. Andy new that Arthur Tragg had been one of them. He and Hamilton Burger spent much of their time trying to catch Mason in an illegal act.

In time, both men realized that although, Mason would come close to that line; he would never cross it. When Hamilton had a friend in trouble and charged with murder, he turned to Perry to defend him. And, when Tragg had been charged with the murder of a two-bit hood, Perry stepped in and cleared him. It had taken a while but they had come to realize that Mason was an honest lawyer who believed in his clients and moved mountains to clear them.

Andy slowed his vehicle as he reached Mason's apartment building. He stopped his car when his headlights revealed a man lying on the pavement in the parking garage. Anderson shut off the ignition, got out of the car and hurried to where the man was lying. He turned the man over to discover that it was Perry Mason.

"Perry, Perry, are you alright?" Andy lightly slapped his cheeks in an attempt to wake him.

Mason groaned as his eyes fluttered open. Andy helped him to a sitting position.

"I had heard you were out dancing and drinking tonight. Maybe you should have danced more and drank less," Andy kidded him.

"This had nothing to do with drinking," Perry told him. "Someone clobbered me."

"Clobbered you? Why?"

"I don't know. It can't be a dissatisfied customer," Perry said, smiling at his own attempt at humor.

Anderson helped him to his feet. "Check your pockets. See if the motive was robbery."

Mason went through his pockets and then pulled out his wallet. After checking the money, he said, "It wasn't for money. I am not missing any. It is all here."

"Well if it wasn't for money and it wasn't a dissatisfied customer, please tell me you're not stepping out on Della." Anderson smiled.

"Only a fool would step out on Della," Perry responded. "And I am no fool."

Anderson turned serious. "Do you have any idea at all, Perry, who hit you and why?"

Mason shrugged. "We don't have a murder trial going right now. I can't think of a thing that would..." Perry stopped mid-sentence. He began searching his pockets again. "It's gone!"

"What's gone?"

"The telegram! It's missing. It was in my pocket when I left my apartment."

"What telegram? What are you talking about?"

"When Della and I got home tonight, there was a telegram on the table. I don't know how it got there. My apartment is protected by an alarm." Perry told him what the telegram said.

"Why would somebody want to steal a telegram? At any rate, we have to inform Lieutenant Tragg." He looked at Perry who was rubbing the back of his head. "Maybe you should go to the hospital and get checked out."

Perry shook his head. "I want to see Tragg."

"Alright, you might as well ride with me." Andy led Perry to his vehicle. They rode in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Perry wondered aloud. "Whoever took that telegram did not want anyone but me to see it."

"Why would they care who saw it?"

"I don't know, Andy. Maybe Lieutenant Tragg can have it checked out."

"With what? Do you know where it came from?"

"It didn't have a company name on the telegram. Come to think of it, it was torn."

"It is not much to go on."

"I realize that. Right now, it is all we have. It will be up to you boys to prevent the murder from happening."

Andy chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Thinking that I would have the rest of the night off. That is what's so funny and you didn't even find a body."

"Unless we find out where that telegram came from, we may find a body at the convention."

2.4

There was nothing more Robert could do tonight. He placed the telegram in his back pocket, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left Frank's office. He had found the events of the day very upsetting. Robert was not so much worried about himself. He knew that his father was a potential target of the would-be killer and if his father was correct, then Frank was a target as well.

Maybe the smartest decision would be not to go to the convention at all. Yet, he knew neither Frank nor his father would make that decision. Having been police officers for more years then he had been alive, neither man had it in him to back down from criminals. Since Frank was one of the keynote speakers, there was even less chance that he could talk him into staying home.

As Robert left police headquarters, he glanced over the parking lot. Why did he park his car so far away from the entrance? It was at the far end, which was the darkest part of the lot. At this time of night, the parking lot was nearly deserted. Ten minutes later Robert finally reached his automobile. He pressed the button on the remote and unlocked the vehicle.

Robert felt the barrel of a gun against his temple. "Don't move. I will not hurt you if you do as I tell you. You received a telegram earlier today. I want that telegram. You are going to give it to me if you want to live."

"What could you possibly want with a telegram?" Robert asked, as he attempted to turn around.

The man pushed the barrel of the gun against his temple with more force. "Never mind what I want with it. It does not concern you. You will give it to me if you want to live. You see, we have plans for you. You never should have turned on the revolution. You will pay for turning your back on your own people. Had we known you were half-English, you never would have been accepted into the organization. You helped that English detective take down Pierre. San Francisco should be nothing but a memory now. You are a trader to the French and you will pay for it. So will your English father. Now give me the telegram."

Robert reached into his back pocket and removed it. He handed it to his assailant over his shoulder. He felt a pain in the back of his head as the man hit him with the butt of the gun. Robert blacked out and fell to the ground.

2.5

Lieutenant Anderson parked his car in his private parking spot at headquarters. He turned off the engine and opened the door. "That is Tragg's car right over there. Apparently, he did not go home after all. I wonder why he did not answer his phone when you called."

"He's here now," said Perry. "That is all that matters. Let's go in and see him. As they were walking in the door, Sergeant Holcomb was coming out.

"Please tell me you have arrested this shyster," Holcomb said with a grin on his face.

Perry had not become as successful as he had by losing his composure. He just forced a smile and replied, "No such luck, Holcomb. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Oh, it's no disappointment, Mason. Eventually a crooked lawyer such as yourself will cross that line and someone will be there to arrest you. I just hope that I am that lucky cop."

"Aren't you supposed to be on duty, Sergeant?" Andy demanded.

Holcomb resented Anderson's reprimand, especially in front of Mason. "I am just heading out to check on a lead."

"Then I suggest you get going," Andy ordered.

Holcomb stared at Perry Mason with hatred. He glanced at Anderson and stomped off.

"You would think that guy would wonder why he is still a sergeant and others around him who have not been here as long have been promoted. The department will never promote him with that attitude."

Right now, the least of Perry's concerns was Sergeant Holcomb. He wanted to talk to Tragg. "Come on, Andy, let's go see Tragg."

They walked together down the hall to the lieutenant's office. They could see him through the glass on his office door. Andy wrapped his knuckles on the pane.

Arthur Tragg looked up and without saying, a word gestured with his hand for them to come in.

Andy opened the door and allowed Perry to walk in in front of him. "Lieutenant, can we see you for a minute?"

The veteran police lieutenant smiled. "Don't tell me you found another body."

The lawyer returned his smile. "Not tonight, Lieutenant. However, I am sure I will be able to oblige you in the future." Mason's smile turned into a grin at what had become a standing joke.

Tragg shook his head. "What can I do for you, fellas?"

"Perry was assaulted earlier this evening."

"A dissatisfied client?"

With a smirk, Perry replied, "I don't have any dissatisfied clients, Lieutenant."

"No, I don't suppose you do. Was it a robbery? Did they take money from you?"

"It was a robbery of sorts," Perry answered. "However, no money was taken. My assailant took a telegram."

The lieutenant's eyes shot upwards quickly. "Telegram? Could it have been a telegram announcing a possible murder at the police convention?"

Perry and Andy looked at each other. "How did you know that, Lieutenant?" Andy asked.

Tragg reached into his suit coat pocket and removed the telegram he had received earlier. "Is it anything like this one?" He reached out and offered the telegram to Perry.

Mason took it from him, read it and handed it to Anderson. "This is similar to the one I received," Perry told him, "except that yours identifies the company and city from which it was sent."

"We have a problem, gentlemen. We have over two thousand police officers attending that convention," Tragg said. "How are we supposed to protect that many people when we don't know who is planning murder and who he is planning to kill?"

"Lieutenant, you will have a hall full of armed police officers. I would think that no one would be stupid enough to shoot or attempt to kill anyone in that hall," Perry told him.

"Your brother will be in that hall. Do you really want me to take a chance with his life?" Tragg asked him.

"Bob can take care of himself. What I am asking you, is it not possible that whoever is going to do this will try it outside of the convention itself?"

"Perry has a point," Anderson agreed.

"Did you two read the telegram? He says he will not be able to get away. I read that as he is determined to kill someone and does not care about getting away with it. So, killing someone at that convention is entirely possible."

Andy looked at his superior officer with confusion. "But the room will be full of armed cops. Not only will he not get away with it, he will probably be shot and killed on the spot."

"Hopefully that will be before he is able to kill anyone else," Tragg said.

Perry took the telegram from Andy. He re-read it. "I think we are forgetting something, here."

"Such as?" Tragg inquired.

Perry tapped the telegram with his other hand. "Our would-be killer could very well be one of the police officers at the convention, probably is."

The three men were silent for a moment. "Our other problem is how do we know who the intended victim is?" Tragg wondered.

"So what we have here is an unknown victim with two thousand suspects," Perry summarized.

Tragg looked at him and growled, "Aren't you just the bearer of good tidings."

"Well, I hate to agree with Perry but he summed it up just about right. We have a bigger problem right now," Andy told his friends.

"And that is?" Tragg rubbed his temples.

"How do you check out two thousand people in the next couple of days?" Perry offered.

2.6

Della checked her watch for at least the tenth time. Where was Perry? Talking to Lieutenant Tragg should not have taken this long. She knew he could take care of himself but she worried about him anyway.

She turned suddenly when she heard the key turn in the lock. The door opened and Perry stepped inside. He reached to turn off the house alarm but stopped when he realized Della had not turned it on. "Della, I had this alarm installed for a reason." He turned the alarm to the stay position.

"I am sorry, Perry. I forgot." Della smiled at him hoping he would fall for her charms and not scold her any further for forgetting to turn on the alarm.

Mason closed the distance between them. "It won't work, Miss Street. I want that alarm on especially when I am not here with you."

"I said I was sorry, Perry." She pressed up against him.

"I thought we agreed not to use sex against each other." He looked down at her with amusement.

"You agreed. It is my best weapon against you," she said as she ran a finger down the dimple line on his jaw.

Mason laughed. "I guess it is."

"Then it is working?" She stood up on her tiptoes in an attempt to kiss his lips but since she was barefoot, she could not come close to them without the big man bending down.

Perry laughed at her and finally relented. "Okay, it is working but I want that alarm on when I am not home."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Mason."

As Perry bent down to kiss her the phone rang. He looked at his watch and sighed. It was five-thirty in the morning and neither of them had been to bed.

"Only one person calls us at all hours of the night." Della walked over to the phone, picked up the receiver and said, "Hello, Robert. What are you doing up so early?" She heard Perry chuckle.

"Good morning, Della," replied the gruff voice. "If the two of you are not... engaged in something I don't want to hear about, tell Perry I need to talk to him."

Perry had moved over to Della and put his head next to her so that he could hear what his brother was saying. "You could try calling at a decent hour. Then you would not catch us engaged... in something, you do not want to hear about. Better yet, move your relationship with Katherine to the next level and maybe we can call you when you are engaged... in something we don't want to hear about." Della laughed as she knew what was coming.

"It doesn't matter what time I call you. You are always engaged in something I don't want to hear about and my relationship with Katherine is none of your business," Ironside growled at his younger brother.

Perry and Della were both laughing but trying not to let Bob know it. "Okay, so what do you want? Some legal advice?"

"Not from a shyster like you."

Perry winked at Della. She smiled knowing how much he liked to get under his brother's skin. "Then what do you want? Don't tell me you have missed me?"

"About as much as I will miss Mark's coffee when I get to Los Angeles," Ironside said sarcastically.

Perry laughed again. "Okay, tell me what is so important that you have to interrupt my love life."

"Lt. Tragg will be getting a call from my son in Montreal."

Perry glanced at Della. "What about... a telegram," he said on a hunch.

"How did you know? He has not called Tragg yet."

"It seems to be going around." Perry told his brother about the telegram he had received as well as the one that had been sent to Arthur Tragg.

"Robert called me this morning. He was attacked last night. All the man took was the telegram. Robert said he was a member of the revolution."

Perry was stunned. "Bob, they took the one I received as well."

"Why send a telegram and then attack the two of you too get them back... unless someone is trying to set up Robert, Ironside pondered.

"Set him up for what?" Perry wondered.

"Murder."

"I thought you and Frank broke up the revolution."

"We only slowed them down. Someone else would have stepped in to take Pierre Fougere's place when he was killed in San Francisco."

"Then maybe you should tell Robert to stay in Montreal," Perry suggested.

"If I do that then we will never know who is behind this."

"Okay, what do you want to do?"

"I am going to change our flights and fly to Los Angeles tomorrow... or rather today. I want you to arrange a meeting with Lt. Tragg as soon as we get there."

"I'll call him later today." Perry hesitated and then said, "Bob, do you ever get the feeling trouble follows us every time we get together?"

"Look on the bright side, at least it's not interrupting a vacation," Ironside said and hung up the phone.

Perry returned the handset to the cradle. Della looked up at him. "Does that mean romance has to wait?"

Mason grinned. "I told Bob I would arrange the meeting later today. I did not promise to do anything until then." Perry picked Della up and carried her to the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

The Case of the Mock Murder

Chapter 3

3.1

"Mark, where are those suitcases?" Ironside growled at his aid.

"Chief, Eve and Ed are not even here yet. Our flight is not for another hour and a half," Mark replied.

"I don't want to be late."

"We will be there on time," Mark said, shaking his head at his boss's impatience.

The door to the office opened. Commissioner Dennis Randall walked in followed by Sergeant Ed Brown and Officer Eve Whitfield. Ironside turned his chair in the direction of the ramp. When he saw the commissioner, he barked, "Whatever it is Dennis, it will have to wait. We are on our way to the airport."

"I don't think that this can wait. It concerns your trip."

"What about my trip? You are not going to tell me you don't want us to go?"

"On the contrary, it is very important that you do go. Someone is going to be killed at the police convention. I contacted Lieutenant Tragg this morning to tell him what is going on.

"You are not going to tell me that you received a telegram also, are you?"

Surprised, the commissioner sat down beside Ironside. "How did you know that?"

"It seems to be going around these days. What did the telegram say?"

Randall reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled it out. He tossed it on the table beside Ironside.

The chief picked up the envelope and removed the telegram. He read it aloud so that his staff members also knew what was written.

'I bet you thought it ended that day in the tunnels... well it did not. Despite everything that has happened, I really have not changed my mind about the revolution. You must pay for what you have done to me. Rousseau is not what I thought. Someone is going to die. I will see you in hell or rather at the police convention.'

Randall watched his detective. When he did not say anything, he asked, "So what do you make if it?"

"More of the same." He told Randall about the other telegrams the others had been receiving. He relayed to him what Perry had said about being mugged and the telegram taken away. He then told him about his conversation with Robert.

"I assume you will be working with Lieutenant Tragg on this one?"

"Perry is supposed to set up a meeting with him as soon as we arrive. At least now we can be pretty sure that the targets are Frank, Robert, and me."

"That is not very comforting considering the room will be full of police officers with guns. How will Tragg ever figure out who the shooter is until it's too late?"

"I don't think that any of those police officers will be doing the shooting," Ed said.

Randall turned and looked at Brown. "You don't want to bet your boss's life on that, do you?"

"Of course not," Eve commented, coming to Ed's aide. "We will be sure that all of the officers at the convention are checked out. However, it is more than likely someone in the revolution from Canada."

"Or someone that wants you to think they are in the revolution from Canada," Randall said, playing the devil's advocate.

"Everything will be checked out, Dennis," Ironside assured him.

Randall stood up. He began walking towards the ramp. "Keep me informed, Bob. I do not have to tell you to be careful. I would like you back here in one piece." He turned to the others. "Keep an eye on him." Randall left the office.

Ironside stared at the telegram. He now was sure Robert was being set up for the murder that someone had planned for the convention. The telegram pointed to him.

"Chief, maybe we should just cancel out of this trip," Mark suggested.

"I have never missed one of these conventions and I don't intend to miss this one either."

"Mark is right. It is not worth your life," Eve said.

Ironside shook his head. "I have to go. Someone is being set up for this murder."

Ed spoke up from where he had taken a seat. "I would say it is Robert."

Ironside almost smiled at Ed's conclusion. His ability to deduce was one of the reasons he had chosen him. "What makes you say that?" Yet, he knew Ed had come to the same conclusion he had for the same reason.

"The fact that the telegram both your son and your brother received that would show that someone is trying to punish the three of you involved in shutting down the revolution. The only telegrams that have not been confiscated are the ones that could be damaging to Robert if a murder is committed." When Ed finished his narrative, he waited to see his boss's reaction. He could read in his eyes that he had already come to that conclusion.

"Chief, you have to admit Ed's theory is plausible," Eve said.

"I do," he replied, looking at his officer, "because I came to the same conclusion."

"Then why not have Robert stay home?" Mark wondered.

"Ed, do you want to enlighten Mr. Sanger?" Ironside barked.

"Because if we stop them from trying in Los Angeles by keeping Robert home, they will simply do it at another time and place. At least in Los Angeles, we will be there to hopefully catch them in the act."

"And that is the plan... unless any of you have a better idea," Ironside told his staff. When everyone remained quiet, he said, "Then I suggest we head for the airport."

3.2

Robert Duvalier and Frank Rousseau boarded the plane to Los Angeles. After finding their seats, they got settled and waited for takeoff.

"I don't like it, Robert. Now we have no proof that the telegram existed. And with the one that Perry Mason had taken from him, the only ones left... "

"Could implicate me if the murder takes place," Robert finished.

"No, not necessarily. Who would believe that you would kill me? Less believable is you killing your own father."

Robert did not agree. "They would simply say that I was actually part of the revolution and only led my father to believe I had turned away from them."

"You have me as a witness of your dedication to becoming a police officer. Besides, Robert, you did not send the telegrams. So they would be unable to prove that you did."

"Nevertheless, I have no intentions of sitting around and allowing them to go through with their plans. Either you or my father has to be their target. I am not going to allow anything to happen to either of you."

"I think you better allow Lt. Tragg to handle any investigation that is necessary. Remember what I told you about jurisdiction."

"Jurisdiction did not stop my father when he came to Montreal."

Frank laughed. "No, it didn't. Bob was a genuine pain in the... he stopped in mid-sentence and smiled. "I am sure you get the idea."

Robert smiled back at him. However, he was not about to stand back and do nothing. If his father were in danger, he would not sit and wait for someone to kill him. He intended to find that individual or individuals before they had the chance.

3.3

The alarm went off beside the bed. Della Street opened her eyes. She glanced over at her sleeping lawyer and smiled. She would allow Perry to sleep while she stepped into the shower.

After throwing back the covers, she grabbed her robe from the nearby chair and headed to the bathroom. Della turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. She dropped the robe and stepped into the stall. Warm water sprayed over her.

She positioned her face in front of the sprayer and allowed it to flow onto her. It felt good in her eyes, which were burning from lack of sleep.

After completing her shower, Della got out, dried and put her robe back on. Once she had dried and styled her hair, she finished up by expertly applying her makeup.

Della slipped back into the bedroom. She could tell Perry was still asleep by the light snoring coming from his vicinity. She walked over to the bed and placed her hand on his cheek.

"It's time to get up, Perry. I'll call Gertie and let her know we will be in shortly."

Mason moaned and rolled towards her. "We don't have that much on the schedule. Have her reschedule my appointments."

Della laughed. "If I have to get up, so do you. It was your idea not to go right to sleep."

Perry mocked a hurtful look. "You mean it wasn't worth it?"

Della leaned over him, placed a kiss on his lips and whispered, "Oh, it was worth it alright."

Perry grinned and attempted to pull her closer but she resisted. "You have to get up and take a shower. Remember, you promised Robert you would set up a meeting with Arthur."

Mason sat up. "Oh yes, Bob. I almost forgot about him. We have to pick him up at the airport."

"What time are they arriving?"

"At noon. Did you arrange for a rental car for them?"

Della gave him a disbelieving look. "Didn't you ask me to do just that?"

Perry feigned innocence. "Yes."

"Have you ever known me to not do something you asked me to do?"

"No."

"Then why ask me?"

"To see that look you gave me. I love that look," Perry grinned.

Della shook her head. "Get in the shower, Perry."

"Don't you think we have time for... "

Della pulled out of his grasp. "No. You barely have time for that shower. I'll set your clothes out."

Perry chuckled and got out of bed. Della watched as he entered the bathroom. She walked over to Perry's closet and removed an outfit for herself. She noticed that her clothes were taking up almost half of his closet. She looked into Perry's half of the walk-in closet and selected a dark blue pinstriped suit with a burgundy tie.

Della walked over to the chest of drawers and removed underwear and socks. She set Perry's clothes on the bed and got dressed.

Della left for the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. She knew there was no way Perry would start the morning without his coffee. Unfortunately, today that was all there would be time for.

While she was pouring the coffee, the doorbell rang. She walked to the door, shut off the house alarm and opened it.

"Good morning, Beautiful. Is that fresh coffee I smell?" Paul Drake stood in the doorway with a grin.

"Good morning, Paul. Come in. I think there is enough coffee for all three of us."

He followed Della into the kitchen. She pulled out another cup, filled it with the fresh brew and set it down on the table. Drake sat down and began drinking his coffee.

"Where's the boss?"

"I am right here," Perry said as he entered the room. "You better not be drinking the last of the coffee."

"Oh you mean this?" Paul raised his cup. "Della would never serve me the bottom of the pot. However, don't worry, Perry, there is close to a cup left in the pot. Nice and strong!" A grin spread across Paul's face.

Della laughed at her two favorite men. "The pot is full. No one has to drink the bottom of the pot."

Perry sat down and raised the coffee cup to his lips, taking a sip. "What brings you here this morning?"

"Can't I visit my closest friends?" Paul sniffed the air. "No breakfast this morning?"

Perry frowned in amusement. "This is not a restaurant."

"So does that mean no breakfast?" Paul asked.

"That is exactly what it means." Perry grinned at his friend.

"Perry has to get to the office and take care of a couple appointments and then we have to go to the airport and pick up his brother and his staff. We don't have time for breakfast this morning," Della informed the private detective.

Paul was clearly disappointed. Then he realized what Della had said. "Ironside is coming for the police convention? You never mentioned that."

Perry shrugged. "It must have slipped our minds. Besides, Bob attends the event almost every year. He is a guest speaker every time he comes. People find him fascinating."

"They wouldn't if they had to work with him," Paul quipped.

That drew a smile from both Perry and Della. They knew that Paul respected Ironside but they suspected there was just a bit of jealousy there. After all, Paul was a detective... not a police detective but a detective nonetheless and Robert Ironside was touted as the best in the business.

"We better get going," Perry said. "By the way, you are invited to join us for dinner. There is something going on that might require your services. We will explain at dinner."

"What's going on?" Paul asked, unwilling to wait until dinner.

"Tonight, Paul. We will tell you tonight. Perry has two clients who are expecting him to be in his office." Della stood up, indicating the conversation had come to an end.

Paul followed the couple to the door. He wanted to ask more questions but he was certain that there would be no answers until dinner.

3.4

Ironside stared out the window of the jumbo jet that was carrying him and his staff to Los Angeles. He had known situations like this before but this time it was different. His son was involved. He wished he could do exactly what Mark had suggested... keep Robert from going to Los Angeles but his police instincts told him that it would be a mistake. If the person involved had been anyone else but Robert, he would have insisted that that person go to Los Angeles so that they could try to trap the perpetrator.

Yet, he worried about Robert. The members of the revolution he had come in contact with showed the organization to be extremely dangerous and particularly vicious. They had reason to go after Robert Duvalier. He had been instrumental in helping Ironside locate and defuse the bomb that Pierre Fougere had placed under the city of San Francisco.

Robert had since been accepted to the police academy in Montreal. Due to Ironside's friendship with Frank Rousseau, Robert had been working for the police department while he studied for his degree in criminal justice.

It would be a perfect way for the revolution to punish both Ironside and Rousseau. However, if they were setting up Robert for murder, which one was their target? Would it be Frank or would it be Ironside himself? Ironside had to admit the one that would hurt Robert the most had to be him.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

"Chief... "

Eve's voice brought his attention back. "Yes, Eve."

"The stewardess wants to know if you want a drink."

He looked at the smiling young lady and said. "Yes, please... bourbon."

"I already knew that." She proudly set the drink down in front of him. "I watched you on the television when the president was on trial. I read that you liked bourbon."

"Thank you." Ironside smiled at her.

"If there is anything else I can get you, don't hesitate to ask." The stewardess moved on to the next person.

Eve, who had been sitting beside her boss from the start of the flight, could sense his worry. "You really think someone is trying to set Robert up?"

Ironside turned his head to address his policewoman. "It certainly is a possibility. Especially with the way the telegrams had been taken from Robert and Perry. I do not like what the remaining ones say. If a murder takes place and it can be tied to him in any way... those telegrams will make it look like he did it and out of premeditation."

"We will just have to prevent it. That's all," Eve said, trying to reassure her boss.

"Yes, we will. I just hope that we will be able to."

3.5

"Thank you, Mr. Mason. You just can't know how much it means to me to know that my partner will be unable to cut my children out of the business upon my death," Mrs. Princeton said as she threw her arms around the lawyer.

Perry patted her arm. "You just leave the legalities to me. I will take care of you."

After he untangled himself from Mrs. Princeton, Della escorted the elderly woman out of Perry's office but soon returned. "You sure have a way with women, Mr. Mason." She smiled up at him.

Perry grinned. "It's my irresistible charm."

Della chuckled. "I guess I can't argue with that. It worked on me."

Perry grinned again. "Is there anything scheduled after we get back from the airport?

Della shook her head. "No, nothing. I figured you would want to spend the rest of the day with your brother."

Perry pulled Della into his arms. "You are always thinking of me and I don't tell you often enough how much I appreciate it. Well, I do." He bent down to kiss her softly.

"As much as I do enjoy this, we have to be going. Your brother's plane is going to land shortly."

"Let him wait."

Della pulled back from him slightly but kept her arms around his waist. "You do remember what he is like when he is forced to wait... for anything?"

"You're right. We better get going." Perry took her elbow and led her towards the door. As he opened it, Lt. Tragg entered the office.

"I know you don't have much time. You are picking Ironside up at the airport but I do need to speak with you."

Mason backed into his office indicating for Tragg to enter. "What is it, Lieutenant? Have you found out something about those telegrams?"

"I spoke with Frank Rousseau this morning before he boarded the plane for the flight here." Tragg hesitated.

Perry looked at his watch. "Lieutenant, I don't mean to rush you but my brother hates to be kept waiting."

"Do you know about the Revolution up in Montreal?"

"It is a group of people who want Quebec to leave Canada and become an independent country. Why?"

"I have uncovered information that they are the ones behind the threat of murder at the convention."

Della went over to the coffee pot and poured Tragg a cup of coffee. She brought it back and gave it to the detective. "Is the information reliable?"

Tragg took a sip of the coffee and then answered her. "Is Frank Rousseau reliable?"

"He's a friend of Bob's. If memory serves me correctly, he's a cop in Montreal." Perry sat down on the edge of his desk.

"That's right. He gave me a great deal of information on that group. Pierre Fougere headed the group."

"I remember that," Della said, "but he was killed in the explosion in San Francisco."

"Someone is always ready to step up and replace a departed crook," Tragg sighed.

"Lieutenant, we really have to get to the airport," Perry reminded him. "Can you get to the point?"

"The point, Perry, is I am assigning police protection to Ironside while he is here in LA."

Perry and Della both looked at Tragg in disbelief." Arthur, I do not understand. Robert is a cop and he will be traveling with Sgt. Brown and Officer Whitfield," Della pointed out to the veteran detective.

"Bob is not going to have any part of this. He is a proud man who has been in countless dangerous situations and was able to defend himself. I think you better rethink this." Perry stood up. "Are you coming to the airport?"

"No. I have other work to do but I am sending Andy. He will be there when Ironside arrives."

Perry shook his head. "That earthquake in the Sawtooth Mountains was enough that I had hoped I never experience another one in my life. Now, I find you have done something that will have my brother roaring. He could cause an earthquake that would make the one in the Sawtooth Mountains look like a hiccup."

"Nothing is going to happen to Ironside while he is here in my city," Tragg said.

"Don't look now, Arthur, but you are starting to sound like Robert Ironside," Della said with a smile.

"Please don't ever say that in front of him," Tragg pleaded.

Perry laughed. "We really have to go, Tragg."

The lieutenant headed towards the door. "Tell Ironside he would do the same if the situation were reversed."

"Oh sure, let me be the one to break the news to him. Not a chance. Do your own dirty work, Lieutenant," Perry said as he and Della walked out with him.

"I will talk to you later, Perry." He tipped his hat at Della who smiled back at him.

Perry stood at Gertie's desk. "We will be out for the rest if the day. Call me if anything important comes up. You can reach us on Della's cellphone. He took Della's elbow and led her out of the office.

3.5

Ironside waited at the carousel watching the luggage go around. "Mark, one of mine is coming around now." He pointed at his suitcase.

Sanger reached over, pulled the suitcase off the carousel, and set it down. He went back to watching for the rest of their luggage.

Ironside looked around. "Where in the blazes is Perry?"

Eve placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "He will be here, Chief."

"When? At this rate, we will miss the police convention."

Eve shook her head. She had gotten used to her boss's impatience.

They watched as Ed and Mark located the rest of their luggage. Once they had it collected, Mark put money into the machine and released one of the carts. Between him and Ed, they loaded the luggage and then looked to their boss for their next move.

"Where is Perry?" Ironside grumbled. He noticed Lt. Andy Anderson headed in their direction.

"Good afternoon, Chief Ironside. Lt. Tragg sent me to meet you," Anderson informed him.

"Tragg sent you? Is Perry all right?" Ironside asked immediately.

He is fine. In fact, Lt. Tragg told me that Perry was picking you up."

"The question is... does Perry know he is picking us up?"

From behind him, Ironside heard the deep commanding voice of Perry Mason. "Yes, he does know."

Ironside grinned and offered his hand. "Are you incapable of being on time?"

"I am on time. What did you have to wait? All of ten seconds?" He shook his brother's hand.

"And so it begins," Eve said. Ed and Mark smiled.

"Would you like to explain why Tragg sent you to meet us?" Ironside asked, directing his attention to Andy Anderson.

"We can discuss this later." Perry tried to distract his brother's attention away from Lt. Anderson but Chief Ironside would have no part of it.

"We will discuss it now!" Ironside insisted.

Look, Bob... " Perry began.

Andy placed a hand on Perry's arm. "Let me." He turned away from Mason and faced Ironside. "Lt. Tragg has decided to provide you with police protection while you are here in Los Angeles."

"That's ridiculous," Ironside roared. "I don't need police protection. I am a cop and my entire staff is with me. Is Tragg saying my people are incompetent?"

"No, Chief. Of course not. Please remember this is our city and you and your staff are guests. There is a credible threat against you."

Ironside was about to argue further when both Eve and Della intervened. "Robert, Andy has to follow orders. You of all people know that. There is no sense in arguing with him."

"Della's right, Chief. There is nothing that can be done right now. You will have to take it up with Lt. Tragg tonight at dinner."

"Oh, that should make for a pleasant dinner conversation," Perry mumbled. Della elbowed him into silence.

"Let's get going. I don't want to sit around this airport all day," Ironside grumbled.

Mark stepped in behind his boss's chair and began pushing him towards the exit.

3.6

There he was... one of the three men that had destroyed his plans, his revolution and his life. Oh, what he would give if he could just shoot the bastard right here and now... but no, he would not do that. It would spoil the rest of his plans. He had to be patient. His plan called for the death of one man, another to be accused of the murder and the third to suffer for both of them.

Right now, he would continue to convince the Los Angeles police that Ironside was his target. Ironside himself would never be convinced of it but that did not matter. He had to keep the LAPD busy.

He checked his escape route and then pulled his gun out. He pointed at Ironside and pulled the trigger.


	4. Chapter 4

The Case of the Mock Murder

Chapter 4

4.1

As Ironside's chair was wheeled forward, they heard the gunshot. The bullet missed both him and Mark Sanger and embedded into one of the suitcases Sgt. Brown was pulling. People began screaming and running in every direction.

"Ed!" Ironside shouted over the commotion. Brown had already drawn his service revolver and was running in the direction of the shot. Eve was only steps behind him.

Lieutenant Anderson turned to Paul Drake who had accompanied Perry and Della. "Stay here! Do not let Chief Ironside out of your sight!" he shouted and then took off running after Eve and Ed.

"Paul, we are sitting ducks out here. Let's get my brother undercover," Perry shouted.

With his gun drawn, Paul spotted the security office. "Come on, this way!" Mark, pushing Ironside's chair, followed Drake as Perry and Della kept a watchful eye for any trouble.

Ed, Eve and Andy arrived at where the shot came from. The crowd had not settled. They continued to run around in complete chaos. All three stopped and looked around. Ed pointed to the exit. "Andy cover that exit in case he immediately left the building. Eve and I will check the other exits out of the terminal." Anderson nodded and left them.

Brown pointed to his right and said, "You check that way, I'll go the other way." Ironside's officers split up to continue the search.

In the security office...

"Maybe Lieutenant Tragg was right about assigning officers to you, Robert," Della said. "They did not waste any time trying to kill you."

"Tragg was wrong and they were not trying to kill me," Ironside corrected.

"Chief, that bullet narrowly missed you," Drake disagreed.

"That's the problem, Paul," Perry pointed out. If they were trying to shoot Bob..."

"I would have been shot," Ironside finished for him.

"If the two of you are correct," Della said looking between the two brothers, "then just who was he aiming at?"

"No one," Perry said. "That bullet is in one of the suitcases. That is exactly where he wanted to put it."

"Why would he want to shoot a suitcase?" Della asked.

"To make us believe that Bob was the intended target," Perry replied.

"Have you considered that Chief Ironside_was _the intended target?" Paul asked.

"Paul, you are not aware of what is happening yet. Remember, I told you something had come up that your services would be required and I would tell you after we picked up Bob?"

"Yes. Don`t you think it is about time you briefed me on what is going on?" Drake demanded.

"Tell him, Perry," Ironside ordered. Mason looked at Drake and began telling him what the rest of them already knew.

Back in the terminal...

Sgt. Brown looked up and down the crowd with frustration. How could he find a person in this crowd that he did not even see? He doubted that neither Eve nor Andy Anderson had been able to find him. They had not seen him either. There were people everywhere. All the shooter had to do was keep his cool and move through the airport like any of the other passengers.

Ed walked toward the exit where the taxis waited for new arrivals looking for a ride. He went out the door and glanced down the line of taxis. Most were empty waiting for what they hoped would be a well paying fare. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Businessmen were calling for taxis. He watched as the yellow cabs pulled away from the curb. For all Ed knew, one of those men that got into a taxi was the shooter and he had just allowed him to leave the airport.

A man bumped into Ed. Without even excusing himself, he kept moving. Brown watched the man. He had been looking around, his eyes darting left and right. Headed in their direction were two police officers. The man made an about face and walked back toward Ed. The detective could not see the man's features. He was wearing a hat and had it pulled low across his face as well as looking down at the ground. He walk swiftly past Ed. His sport coat was not buttoned. A wind came up and blew his coat up in the back. A gun was tucked behind his belt.

Ed had placed his service revolver back in its holster so as to not scare passengers moving through the terminal. He once again pulled the gun out and followed the man, his long legs allowing him to close the distance between them. Catching up to him, Ed called out. "Police! Stop right there!"

The man stopped and turned around. He looked at Ed who was holding a gun on him. "What's the problem, Officer?"

"Put your hands on your head and get down on your knees!" Ed shouted.

"What for? I have not done anything. What is this? Harassment? I have not done anything."

"On your knees now!" Brown shouted. That drew the attention of the two police officers, who were now headed to the man holding a gun on another man.

"Help! This man is trying to abduct me. Help!"

The Los Angeles police officers had their guns drawn as one of them shouted at Ed. "Police! Drop the gun and put your hands on your head!

"I'm a cop," Ed called out.

"He is trying to kidnapp me," the man yelled.

Ed could not believe it. He would have sworn the man was an actor. He almost had him convinced that he was trying to abduct him.

"Mister, you drop that gun or I am going to shoot. Do you understand me?"

Ed attempted to show the offcers his badge with his left hand but they were having no part of it. "Drop it. I won't tell you again!"

"He has a gun." Ed dropped his service revolver on the cement as one of the officers pushed him to the ground.

"The only gun I see is the one you are waving around," the officer snarled.

It was all the distraction the man with the gun needed. He reached behind and pulled it out of the back of his belt. He shot the one officer while he was busy cuffing Brown. He then turned the gun on the other officer. He shot him in the back of the head. As he passed Ed Brown, he hit him with the gun, knocking him out. He hurried to the closest taxi and shoved the gun in the driver's face. "Drive!"

4.2

Perry watched his brother. He could read the impatience on his face. Ironside had never liked to sit back and wait for his officer's to handle the action. This time was obviously no different. His brother's staff had not reported back to him.

"What are the chances that they will even find this guy?" Paul asked.

"Next to nothing," Ironside growled, "unless we get lucky."

The door opened and Eve and Andy walked in. "No luck, Chief," Eve said. "He just melted into the crowd. Since none of us never got a look at him, we just don't know who we are looking for. No one saw him shoot at you. No one saw anyone with a gun."

"It's not as if he would have wielded the gun through the crowd," Paul said.

The phone on the desk rang. The duty officer picked it up. "Lieutenant Anderson it's for you."

He handed the phone to Andy. "Anderson." Andy listened for a few minutes and then said, "We are on the way." The lieutenant hung up the phone and turned to Ironside. "A couple of our boys had a run in with Ed. Apparantly, they didn't listen to him and it cost them their lives. Do you want to come along?"

"Just try and keep me away," Ironside thundered.

"Chief, is this a good idea?" Eve asked. "If he was shooting at you, he could try again."

Ironside wheeled towards the door. "He's long gone."

Perry took hold of Della's elbow and followed them out the door.

4.3

Ed sat on the curb and rubbed his temples. A pounding headache had resulted from the blow he took to the head. He watched as Lt. Tragg pulled his car to a stop. He walked over to the officers that had arrived on the scene ahead of him. Ed thought about the officers explaining to their superior what had gone down. He was not looking forward to explaining it to his. Their deaths had been so senseless. Why had they not listened to him? He tried to show them his San Francisco credentials. He had warned them the man had a gun and they had paid no attention to him.

Ed could see Lt. Tragg coming his way. He shook his head, trying to clear the cloud that was threatening to turn into a fog. Tragg approached him. "Why is it the minute your boss comes to town the bodies start piling up?"

"You tell me, Lieutenant. It's your city," Ed responded. "Look on the bright side. At least Mason and Drake did not discover the bodies this time."

"Ed, what happened?" Ironside barked as he wheeled up to his sergeant. He did not realize that the loudness of his voice might as well have been a rock concert as it reverberated in Ed's skull.

"Hello, Chief," Tragg said. He understood Ironside's desire to get answers but if he didn't step in, he knew the San Francisco detective would completely take over. He turned to Ed and said, "I heard about the pot shot someone took at your boss. What happened after you took off after him?"

Ed took them through seeing the gun, to the officers interupting him and to the actual shooting.

"Did you see his face?" Perry asked.

"Yes... no."

"Well which is it, Sergeant?" Ironside demanded.

"I saw his face but it was not natural... as if he was wearing something over it too mask his features. It was to drawn... as if he had had a face lift."

Tragg intervened. "I want you to describe him to a police sketch artist anyway just in case you are wrong about him trying to hide his features."

"Of course, Lieutenant," Ed replied.

Andy Anderson walked up to Tragg. No one seems to be able to describe the man, Lieutenant. They kept their distance when they saw our boys arresting Sgt. Brown. And when the shots were fired, they got out of Dodge."

"Any idea what kind of gun he was using?" Della asked.

"From the looks of the wounds, probably a glock," Tragg answered.

"Well there is not much else we can do here. We might as well get going," Ironside decided. "You will join us for dinner, Tragg?"

"I will be there. We have a lot to talk about. Let me clean things up here and I will see you later."

"Ed, you are going to the hospital to get looked at," Ironside told his sergeant.

"I am alright, Chief," Ed insisted.

"And you will go to the hospital to confirm that," Ironside ordered.

"Chief, Robert's plane should be landing shortly," Eve reminded him.

"Perry, can you meet his plane and bring Robert to the car?"

Perry nodded in the affirmative. "Della and I will meet him. You go on and take Ed to the hospital."

"Mark can do that. I will wait in the other car for you."

"Alright. There are two big SUV's in the pickup zone." He handed a set of keys to Mark and another to his brother. "We'll take the luggage to my apartment building, Mark. Bob and Robert will be staying at my place and it just so happens an apartment opened up on the same floor I am on. I talked the manager into allowing us to rent it while you are in town."

Ed stood up from the curb he had been resting on. "Let's get this over with." He headed toward the pickup zone with Mark.

4.4

Perry and Della waited by the luggage carousel that Robert and Frank's luggage would be coming on.

"Perry, do we even know what Robert looks like?"

"Yes, Bob has shown me pictures of him. He must look like his mother because he sure doesn't resemble Bob very much." Perry looked around for the nephew he had never even known existed let alone met. He spotted Robert heading their way. "There he is now." Mason took Della's elbow and walked with her to the young man.

"Robert Duvalier?" Perry asked as he smiled at Robert.

"Yes. You are obviously Perry Mason. You look exactly like my father." Robert returned the smile.

"Please be sure to tell your dad that. He just loves being reminded that we look so much alike."

Robert chuckled. "I will be sure to do so then." He looked at the beautiful woman that had accompanied his uncle. "And this is..."

Perry smiled again. Men never failed to notice Della. Her beauty made her stand out in a crowd. "This is Della Street. She is my confidential secretary and... my lady." There was no reason to keep formalities with this young man. He was family after all.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Robert. We have heard so much about you from your father," Della said to the son of Robert Ironside.

"The pleasure is mine, mademoiselle. I have heard much about the two of you from him as well. It is nice to finally meet my uncle and his lovely lady." Robert bowed slightly to Della.

"One thing is for sure," Perry said. "You did not inherit your charm from Bob."

Della chuckled and said, "Sibling rivalry."

Robert smiled. "I would not know about that. I have no brothers and sisters."

"Where is Mr. Rousseau?" Perry asked, just realizing that the Canadian detective was no where in sight."

"He stopped off in Chicago on business. He will not be here until the day of the convention. Frank did not say what it was all about."

"Then shall we join your father?" Perry asked, picking up Robert's baggage that the young man had pulled from the carousel.

"Yes, I am looking forward to seeing him."

4.5

Detective Frank Rousseau knocked on the office door of Gilles Contraire. Detective Contraire looked up from his desk and grinned. "Frank! How nice to see you again."

Rousseau stepped forward and shook hands with his former colleague. "It looks like you have settled into the American justice system quite well."

"There is not much difference between the two countries," Gilles told him. "I thought you are on your way to the police convention in Los Angeles. I was surprised to get your call. I assume there is something you need me to do for you?"

"You have heard of the revolution in Quebec? Well I have reason to believe they are going to attempt to kill either me, Robert Ironside or Robert Duvalier."

Contraire sat forward in his seat. "_Thee _Robert Ironside?"

"Do you know of another?"

"Who is Robert Duvalier?"

"He's Ironside's son. He was active in the revolution when he realized how dangerous they were. He helped Robert stop Pierre Fougere and those bombs he set in San Francisco."

Contraire whistled in a low tone. "I take it you think this organization is going to try and take revenge on one or all of you?"

"If my information is correct, it will be an attack on all of us but only one of us will be killed. The others will be affected by the events that will follow."

"Does Ironside know about this?"

"Ironside is the best there is. I have no doubt he suspects the same thing even without the information I have."

"Okay, What do you want from me and what has this to do with Chicago?"

"There is a man here in Chicago that is part of the revolution. I want to pick him up and bring him here for questioning."

"Who is he?"

"Armand Dareau. He is here in the United States to help plan revenge on the English for their part in bringing down Pierre Fougere."

"And you think he may have a part in the threats on the three of you?"

"Yes. At the very least, I am sure he knows about it. I would like to find out how much."

"What proof do you have?"

"I don't have anything substantial. Just rumors my informants have brought me."

Contraire looked skeptical. "You want me to haul this man in on rumors?"

Frank could see his friend was not going to be easy to convince. He understood but he did not have the luxury of time to gather the evidence he needed. Robert had become like a son to him and Robert Ironside was one of his longest and dearest friends. He needed to find out what was going on and which one of them was the target. He would never forgive himself if one of them were killed and he had done nothing to prevent it.

"Of all people, you are fully aware rumors picked up by our informants are as good as evidence," Rousseau argued.

"But not in a court of law, Frank, and you know it. This man has quickly become a favorite of the community. He has donated to homeless shelters and helped the poor with numerous problems. In other words, he has become a pillar of the community and I will have to have evidence that he is otherwise. I am sorry, Frank. I can't do it."

"Then it will be on your head if Ironside or his son is killed."

"That is not fair."

Rousseau rubbed his throbbing temples. "You are right. I am sorry." Frank got up to leave. He turned and headed to the door.

"What are you going to do?"

"Exactly what I have to," he replied.

"Don't harass the man. If you come up with something I can use, I will be glad to help you. You know that."

Detective Gilles Contraire stood up. He could sympathize with his Canadian friend but he just had not given him anything he could act on. "Maybe we can get together for dinner tonight?"

"Sure, Gilles. I would like that. I'll call you with the time."

"You do that. I look forward to it." Contraire offered his hand and Rousseau shook it and then left his office.

Contraire might not be able to help him but that would not stop him from doing it himself. The lives of two people close to him were at stake.

He glanced at Gilles's office to be sure he was busy and then walked over to one of the cops sitting at a computer. "Excuse me. I am Detective Rousseau from Montreal." He pulled out his badge and showed it to the officer. "Detective Contraire told me to get all known addresses and hangouts of this man." He reached into his pocket and handed the man a piece if paper with Armand Dareau's name on it.

The officer looked at Rousseau with suspicious eyes. I will have to check with him."

Frank was afraid of that. He was about to tell him to forget it when the officer beside him said, "Gilles used to work with this man. It is okay."

The officer nodded and typed some information into the computer. He ran off the results and gave them to Rousseau.

"Thank you, Officer." Rousseau took the paper and left the Police station determined to protect Ironside and his son from harm.

4.6

Perry and Della led the young Canadian to the SUV where his father awaited him. Perry had been impressed with him. His manners were impeccable. There was no doubt that his mother had done an excellent job of raising him. Then Perry had not expected anything any different. His brother had excellent taste in women. Even Barbara Jones had impressed him. She just proved not to be suitable for Bob Ironside. His current lady, Katherine Denuerve was much more so.

Della watched as Perry led them to the awaiting vehicle. She knew immediately that Perry liked Robert's son. Not many people could read Perry but she could. It came from years of spending nearly every minute of every day with him, inside and outside of the office.

As they approached the vehicle, Eve got out and opened the door next to Ironside. Robert looked in and saw his father sitting inside. He smiled and got in. Hello, Papa." He offered his hand to the man whom he had come too care deeply for.

Ironside took his son's hand and grinned. "Hello, Robert. It is good to see you again." He noticed that Frank Rousseau was nowhere in sight.

Robert, seeing that he was looking for Frank, said, "He stopped off in Chicago. He told me to tell you that he would be flying in just before the convention."

"What is he doing in Chicago?" Perry asked.

"I don't know. He would not tell me. He said if it panned out, he would call us."

"That is all he told you?" Ironside inquired.

Robert nodded. "I do know that there is a detective in the Chicago Police Department that used to work with Frank in Montreal. He might have gone to see him."

"What about?" Perry asked.

Robert just shrugged. "I don't know."

"After we get settled, I think we better give him a call," Ironside suggested.

Eve dropped her boss and Robert along with Perry and Della at Perry's apartment. After they were safely inside, Eve asked the chief if there was anything else he needed.

"No, Eve. Be back for dinner at six,'" Ironside told her before his officer left for the apartment Perry had rented for his staff.

"I am not staying at the other apartment?" Robert asked confused.

Perry slapped the young man on the shoulder. "You are family. You stay here. Besides, if I have to put up with your father every waking hour, so do you."

Ironside looked directly at his brother. "You could always stay in the other apartment."

"And leave you alone with Della. Not a chance."

Della and Robert chuckled. "Get used to it, Robert," Della said. "They go on like this every time they are together.

He smiled back at her. "I didn't grow up with a brother."

"Neither did I," Ironside bragged. "I got through most of my life without one and then I had to find out that I had a shyster lawyer for a brother."

Perry was not about to let Bob get away with that. "And I had to find out that I had a brother who makes Grumpy of the Seven Dwarfs look like Howdy Doody."

Della and Robert burst out laughing. Ironside was about to say something when Della intervened. "I suggest you gentlemen get settled. Mark will be back here shortly to pick us up for dinner. Robert, You will stay in the room that your father stayed in the last time he was here and, Chief, you will stay in the room next to Perry and I."

Ironside looked from Della to Perry. "In that case, I hope that the two of you will behave yourselves so that I can get some sleep."

"I think I will find my room," Robert said with a red face and headed down the hall even though he did not yet know which room Della was talking about.

Perry grinned. "Sensitive lad!"

4.7

Frank Rousseau pulled his rented car into the alley behind one of the known hangouts of Armand Dareau. He looked around the alley before getting out of the car. There was a six foot privacy fence surrounding the property. Frank could see nothing over it and it simply was too dark to see through the cracks of the fence.

He looked at the top of the fence which was just about eye level. He saw no other way around it. He would have to get closer and the only way to do that was to climb the fence. "I am getting too damn old for this," he grumbled as he grabbed the top of the privacy fence and pulled himself up to the top. He threw one leg over, then the other and dropped to the other side. He groaned as he lost his footing and fell to the ground.

Rousseau got up and went to the back door of the house. He pulled out his service revolver and checked the door.

"What are you doing here, Rousseau," the voice behind him demanded.

He turned around to see Armand Dareau holding a gun on him.


	5. Chapter 5

The Case of the Mock Murder

Chapter 5

5.1

Perry poured his brother a drink and handed it to him. "I thought you might like a drink before dinner. He got out three more glasses and poured Della, Robert and himself one as well.

"I always enjoy a drink before dinner... and after dinner for that matter," Ironside said, grinning.

"That boy of yours is quite some kid," Perry remarked. "I can tell you did not raise him, though."

"How's that?"

"His temperament. He is far too charming and his manners are impeccable."

"And mine aren't?" Ironside asked, indignantly.

Perry looked at his brother with a straight face, took a sip of his drink and answered with a question, "You have manners?"

Ironside looked up at Perry, who held his poker face. The corners of the older brother's mouth turned up slightly and the two men chuckled. "Did you ever think what it would have been like if we had grown up together?" Ironside asked.

Perry smiled. "All the time. I do think we probably would have gotten into our share of arguments." He walked over and sat down beside his brother. "I meant it when I said that is some kid you got there."

"I know. I only wish that I... " He stopped in mid-sentence.

"Could have been there to see him grow up?" Perry finished for him.

Ironside looked down at his drink. "She kept him hidden from me all those years."

"The situation could not have been easy for her, Bob. Married to one man, in love with another. She did what she thought was best. She was wrong to not tell you but you can at least try to understand why she did it."

"I do understand. And I blame me more than I do her. I never should have left there without confronting her about us."

"She never would have told you."

"No, I suppose not." He blew out a breath. "It doesn't matter now. Robert and I have developed a relationship and he is part of my life now."

"And you have Katherine."

Ironside nodded and tipped his glass. "And I have Katherine. Best thing that ever happened to me. She's beautiful, smart and tough."

"And she loves you. Why in God's name she does, I will never know."

"I could say the same thing about Della," Ironside countered. Both men grinned at each other.

"I am just curious, have you told our father about Robert?" Perry asked.

"Yes, I called him shortly after we stopped Pierre Fougere. Robert got in touch with him. We are going to have dinner while we are here. You and Della are invited to join us."

"We would love to," Perry said with a smile.

Robert and Della entered the room. As soon as they did, Perry got up, walked over to the bar and brought their drinks to them. "I hope you like bourbon. Your father does not seem to drink much of anything else."

Robert took the drink. "Bourbon is fine. I much prefer a good glass of wine or Scotch, though."

Ironside wrinkled his face. "Scotch... are your sure you are my son?"

Perry and Della chuckled. The doorbell rang. Perry left them and went to answer it. Upon opening the door, he found Eve, Ed and Mark standing there. "Come in, we were just having a drink before dinner. What can I get you?"

"Actually, our resevations are for six o'clock. We really should be going," Eve said.

"Eve's right," Ironside agreed. "Lt. Tragg an Andy Anderson will be waiting on us.

They set their drinks down and headed out the door.

5.2

"I asked you a question, Rousseau. What are you doing here?" Armand Dareau demanded.

"I could ask you the same question, Dareau. My understanding is that you are such a pillar of the community."

Dareau half smiled. "That is exactly what I am supposed to look like."

"But we both know better."

"It doesn't matter what you know. It only matters what you can prove, now doesn't it?" Dareau said, lowering his eyes.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"I didn't. Why would I bring you here?"

_**Rousseau pulled a paper out of his pocket and handed it to Dareau. The terrorist looked at it and read it aloud.**_

_**Rousseau, stop off in Chicago. I am tired of the Revolution. I have found a better life for myself. I have information on the murder that is supposed to take place in Los Angeles**_.

"You think I sent this?"

"Didn't you?"

Dareau snorted. "It is a telegram. I never send telegrams."

"Then you didn't send it?"

"Of course not. Why would I betray the Revolution for a cop?"

"Do you have any idea who might have sent it?"

"If I did, the man would not be breathing for very long We don't put up with traitors in the Revolution."

"Is that why your people attacked Robert Duvalier in Montreal?"

"The organization has other plans for the traitor, Duvalier and his English father."

"Then you do plan to kill one them?" Frank said.

"You will find out soon enough, cop." He pointed the barrel of the gun towards the house. "Inside."

"What for?"

"No more questions. Just get inside."

Frank did not see where he had much choice. He did not dare reach for his gun until Dareau was distracted. If he did, it would surely mean his death. Frank turned towards the house. When he did, Armand reached under his suit coat and removed his gun. Frank knew he was in real trouble.

He opened the door. The room stank of mildew. Standing in that empty room were two rather large men. Frank had no doubt what they were there for. He looked back at Armand. "So what's it going to be?"

Armand asked. "Didn't you wonder why that police officer was so willing to tell you where to find me?"

"That is easy. He is either part of your ridiculous Revolution or he is on the take."

Armand looked at one of his men and then the other. They moved in closer to Rousseau. "He could care less about the Revolution but he does like money. Something we have plenty of. You are French, yet you turn your back on your own people."

"Most of the people in Quebec don't want any part of your Revolution. I am not turning my back on them... they are the overwhelming majority, Dareau."

Armand dismissed that statement with the wave of his hand. "They don't know what is best for them."

Frank shook his head. "And of course you do?"

"They will come to realize it when we kick the English out of Quebec."

"You disgust me. Your Revolution is no better then Adolph Hitler's regime or Saddam Hussein's. You are wanna-be dictators. You are a fool, Dareau. You will never take over Quebec. You will either end up dead or behind bars just like Pierre Fougere. Look where he is... dead at the hands of Robert Ironside. That is what is waiting for you."

"Ironside will pay and so will you." He nodded at the two men who held Frank Rousseau.

One held Rousseau the other punched him in the face and stomach over and over. Dareau stood by and watched his men beat Frank without mercy. When he decided he had enough, he signaled for them to stop.

"We don't want him dead," he said as Frank lost consciousness. "I will call the Chicago police. Both of you will be paid one million dollars to plead guilty. After you have served your sentence, your money will be waiting for you in this account." He handed each of them a piece of paper with the overseas bank information. "You know who to tell the police paid you to beat up Rousseau, right?"

"Robert Duvalier," they said together.

5.3

"If I had known that we were going to be eating chilli, I would have skipped dinner," Tragg complained.

Perry grinned. "You should have known that the minute Bob suggested the dinner."

"Does this stuff come with something that calms the stomach," Andy Anderson asked. "It sure is hot. How do you eat this on a regular basis?"

"Didn't you ever wonder why the chief is so grumpy?" Tragg complained. That brought on a round of laughter around the table.

"This is all very entertaining but we agreed to meet here for a reason," Ironside told the group. "Anything new on the man that killed those police officers at the airport?"

"Nothing," Tragg announced. The only one that got a look at him was Ed and the sketch we have from the police artist is not going to be of much help. He obviously had some kind of thin mask on his face."

Ironside noticed that Ed did not seem to agree. The look on his face confirmed that. "Ed?"

Brown squinted his eyes. "I don't know, Chief. I can't be sure but I don't think that was a mask. I think the man had had plastic surgery. I think what I was seeing was his actual face."

"If it was, he won't be able to go out in public without being recognized," Lt. Anderson said. "We will have him picked up the second he is seen."

"He won't be seen," Perry said.

"What makes you think that, Perry," Della said beside him.

"He knows we will be looking for him. I don't think he intended to kill Bob. I believe he was just getting his attention. I doubt he expected to get the reaction that he got."

"That doesn't make sense," Paul Drake interjected. "He could not expect to shoot a gun at the airport and not expect the cops to go after him."

"He didn't think we would find him in that crowd," Ironside responded. "He expected to blend into the crowd and walk out of the airport unnoticed."

"Then Ed saw the gun when the wind blew up his jacket," Eve added.

"Exactly," Perry agreed. "Were you able to find out anything from the cab driver that picked him up?"

"Well there is a bit of a problem there," Tragg told them. "The cab driver did not answer any requests from the dispatcher for fares so the cab company called the police. Andy put an APB on the driver. When the cab was finally spotted..."

"They found a dead driver," Ironside finished for him.

"That's right," Tragg confirmed.

"And prints in the cab?" Ed asked.

"Lots of them," Andy answered.

Tragg snorted. "Hundreds in fact. There is no way to know which one of them belong to the killer."

"So basically we have nothing," Ironside growled.

"That about sums it up," Tragg confirmed.

"What about the police that are going to be at the convention? How are you coming with checking them out?" Mark wondered. He was concerned for the chief's safety and everyone at that convention would be carrying a gun.

"So far nothing," Andy spoke up. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Every one of them that we have looked into checks out. We have asked the ranking officers to help us out or we will never get through this many cops by the start of the convention."

Ironside noticed that Robert had not said a word. It was unlike him to not take part and offer suggestions. "Robert, do you have any idea what Frank may have been checking on in Chicago?"

Robert looked up from his plate. Shaking his head, he faced his father. "No. I know of no reason for him to go to Chicago."

"You said he has a friend there," Della remembered. "Is it possible that it was just a social visit."

"No, mademoiselle. He said if it panned out, he would call us. I tried calling him but he did not answer his phone."

"What's the friend's name," Perry asked.

"Contraire, Gilles Contraire. He worked with Frank before moving to the United States."

"Eve, get Contraire on the phone for me," Ironside ordered.

Officer Whitfield reached into her purse and retrieved her cell phone. She called information and got the number for the Chicago police department and asked for Contraire. Minutes later Gilles Contraire came on the line. Eve turned the speaker on and handed the phone to Ironside.

"Detective Contraire."

"Detective, this is Robert Ironside of the San Francisco Police Department. I am trying to reach Frank Rousseau. I understand he stopped on his way to Los Angeles. Has he been in touch with you?"

"Yes, Chief Ironside, he has. He was here earlier. We were supposed to have dinner tonight but he did not call me back. I am a bit concerned since it is unlike him to not keep an appointment."

"What did he come to see you about?" Ironside inquired.

"About a man named Armand Dareau." Contraire went on to tell Ironside what Rousseau had wanted and why he had turned him down.

"Detective, can you put out an APB on him and have him call me as soon as you pick him up?"

"I already have done that. I will call you as soon as we find him, Chief."

Ironside hung up the phone. "He's missing."

"You don't know that," Lt. Tragg said. "You are jumping to conclusions."

Perry winced at Tragg's words. He knew they would not go over well with his brother.

Ironside turned his attention to Arthur Tragg. "I never jump to conclusions, Lieutenant. I have known Frank Rousseau for over thirty years and when he makes a dinner date, he keeps it... unless something or someone prevents him from doing so. I simply came to the logical conclusion that when he did not keep the dinner date, it is because he can't. And I want to know why."

"I have this nagging feeling Bob is right," Perry said. He squeezed Della's hand under the table.

5.4

As the world started to come into view, Frank Rousseau was temporarily confused as to where he was. He was having a hard time breathing. His side hurt. He had no doubt that he had more then one broken rib.

Rousseau could feel the thickness of his lip. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and out of his nose.

Frank sat up, put his head back and closed his eyes trying to will away the pain. He could barely see out of his right eye because it was nearly swollen shut. He attempted to stand up but fell to the ground in pain.

Police sirens could be heard from a distance. Frank chuckled. _There is never a cop around when you need one.___ The sirens became lower and closer until he realized they were right in from of the empty house which Frank was now in.

Outside, he could hear someone shouting orders. There was a scuffle and then he heard the voice of his friend, Gilles Contraire. Through the haze, Frank could hear Contraire reading someone their miranda rights. Suddenly, the door burst open and Detective Contraire, with his gun drawn, came cautiously into the room.

Running straight for Frank as other officers covered, he knelt down beside him. "Are you alright?"

"I have been better," Frank replied. "Thanks for coming."

"When you did not call regarding dinner, I became concerned. Then I got the call from Ironside..."

"Ironside? Bob called? What about?"

"He was concern because he could not reach you."

Frank chuckled. Ironside didn't miss anything. "I will call him later and ease his mind."

Contraire nodded as he watched the older man. "Do you want to tell me what you were doing in this Hell hole?"

Frank told him how he had gotten the address from his officer and what had happened when he got there. He saw the skeptical look on his friend's face.

"Are you telling me he had you beaten?"

Frank became irritated at the doubt on Contraire's face. "Your pillar of the community is a thug."

"Frank, the beating you took was pretty bad. I think you better let me take you to the hospital."

As Frank tried to get to his feet, darkness threaten to take him. His head spinned and his eyes blurred. "I am not going to the hospital. I want Armand Dareau arrested for assault!" Contraire grabbed his arm, helping him to his feet.

"I can't arrest Dareau."

Rousseau turn his head sharply towards Detective Contraire and snarled, "What do you mean you can't arrest him?"

"I arrested two men that came out of this house. When I called for them to halt, they pulled guns on us and ran. They ran directly into my men. I told them we got an anonymous call that you were here and had been beaten. The description of the two men matched the two men arrested."

"Good. You have the two that beat me now all you have to do is arrest the man who ordered it," Frank said.

Contraire walked over to the door, opened it and shouted, "Jim, bring them in here."

Two uniformed officers accompanied the prisoners into the room. "Are these the two men that assaulted you?"

Frank looked at them and immediately answered, "Yes, that's them."

"Tell Detective Rousseau who ordered you to beat him."

The one thug turned to Frank and said, "Robert Duvalier."

"What? That is ridiculous! Robert isn't even here and he wouldn't do it anyway. I told you Armand Dareau ordered them to attack me. He was right here."

"We don't know no Armand Dareau," the one man said.

"No one was here but us," added the other. We were paid by Robert to rough you up."

Rousseau looked at Contraire. "They are lying!"

Contraire reached into his pocket, pulled out a telegram and handed it to Frank.

Rousseau opened the telegram and read the words.

_**'The money has been placed into your bank accounts. Be sure Rousseau gets the message. Beat him but don't kill him. He will become useful later on. He must continue to think that I have turned against the Revolution. Once I have become a cop, we will know what they know and when they know it.' **_

Frank re-read the telegram. "You can't possibly believe that Robert did this. It is not even signed!"

"It is obvious even without the signature, isn't it?" Contraire said as though there could not be any question. "I made a call. They are having these men's bank accounts traced to see where the money came from."

The door opened and another officer came in. "Gilles, they completed the trace. The money came from an offshore account in the name of Robert Duvalier."

Rousseau sat back down. He became sick to his stomach. It couldn't be, could it? Robert could not have taken him for a fool. How could he have convinced him that he had turned his back on the Revolution? Why had he not seen it? Frank felt betrayed. He had trusted the boy, taken him under his wing. How could he be so wrong about him?

"Frank, I will call ahead and have the Los Angeles police pick him up to send him back here," Contraire stated.

"No!" Frank shouted.

"No? What do you mean no?"

"I am not going to press charges for this. I am going to nail him for working with the Revolution and I am going to let Bob know what his son really is."

Contraire showed his obvious disagreement in his tone of voice. "Let me have him picked up. We can work on the rest later."

"No. The only charges I want filed are against these two until I talk to Bob Ironside. I owe him that much."

Contraire sighed. "Alright, have it your way. I will need you to come down to Headquarters to sign a statement."

"It will include the fact that Armand Dareau was here and ordered these two to attack me."

"That won't do any good, Detective Rousseau. I just talked to his wife who said he has been home all evening," an officer said as he entered the room.

"And you believe him? Such an unbiased witness," Frank said sarcastically. He headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Contraire asked.

"To get my car. I will meet you at Headquarters."

"You should go to the hospital."

"To Hell with the hospital! I intend to find out if there is a connection between Robert and Dareau. If there isn't these two scumbags are lying through their teeth."

Sloat and Malone just stood there as Rousseau pushed his way past them.

5.5

Back in Perry's apartment, Ironside paced in his wheelchair. He still had not heard from Frank Rousseau. Nor had Detective Contraire called him back.

He wheeled over to Perry's bar and poured himself another glass of bourbon. He downed the contents and poured another.

"I could have gotten that for you," Perry told his brother. He knew it was one of those times when Bob's patience would be thin.

"I am perfectly capable of getting things myself," Ironside snarled.

"I know that, but how do you think you are going to carry that back and wheel that chair at the same time?" Perry asked.

"Like this." Ironside set the glass between his body and the side of the wheelchair. He wheel back to the couch stopping next to Della, who sat at the end. He pulled the glass from the side of his chair and set it on the coffee table. He turned and looked at Perry with a triumphant look. Della looked up at Mason and smiled.

"Why doesn't one of them call?" the chief complained.

"I am sure they will as soon as they are able," Della tried assuring him.

Ironside turned his attention to his son. "He didn't say anything at all why he stopped in Chicago?"

Robert understood his father's frustration. He felt it too but his restlessness was beginning to get on his nerves. "As I told you, Papa, he said he would call if it panned out. That is all he told me. He did contact Contraire. We know he had some kind of lead on the Revolution. He probably is pursuing it." Robert hoped that would satisfy his father until one of them called but he should have known better.

"You must have some idea as to why he stopped there," Ironside pushed his son.

"No, I don't. He did not discuss it with me. Papa, you are just going to have to wait until one of them calls. There is nothing else I can tell you. If you will excuse me, I think I will lie down for a while. I have developed a splitting headache." Robert left the room for the peace and quiet of the bedroom.

Della put her hand over Ironside's. "Robert, you need to settle down. There is nothing you can do until you hear from them."

Perry smiled at the calming effect his Della had on his brother. "Bob, I am concerned about this convention. Lt. Tragg has come up with nothing on any of the officers attending. We still do not have a clue who will be doing the shooting and which one of you is the target."

"My son is not the target, Perry. Recent events confirm that he is being set up for the murder. That leaves either Frank or myself."

"I already determined that. But which one of you?"

"How can we be sure that it is only one of you?" Della asked. "Could the assailant be after both of you?"

"Interesting theory," Perry said. "I don't think we can rule it out."

The phone rang. Perry got up and walked over to it. "Hello."

Ironside watched intently, waiting to see if it was either Contraire or Rousseau. "Well?" he asked impatiently.

"It's Katherine," Perry smiled. "Why don't you take it in the bedroom," he suggested thinking Bob might want some privacy.

Ironside wheeled down the hall, entered the bedroom and shut the door. Picking up the phone, he said softly, "Hello, Katherine."

"Robert, I miss you already."

Ironside smiled. "I miss you more."

"I miss you most," she returned, chuckling that they both sounded like love sick teenagers.

"I'll be back as soon as we can figure out what is going on here and stop whoever is doing this."

"Promise me you will be careful."

"I promise. Don't worry. I will be just fine," Ironside told her.

"You told me that I could worry a little."

He smiled. "Just a little. Then I know you care."

"I care, Robert."

"I know, Katherine. You get some rest. I will call you tomorrow."

"Alright, you do the same."

"I will and Katherine..."

"Yes Robert."

"I love you."

Katherine smiled at the words she longed to hear from him. "I love you, too."

"Goodnight, Katherine."

"Goodnight."

He heard a click and the line went dead. Ironside sat there for a moment wishing he was in San Francisco with Katherine instead of trying to prevent a murder in Los Angeles.

He left the bedroom and headed back to the living room. Perry was talking on a cell phone when he arrived. Ironside realized that it was his cell phone.

"Just a moment, Detective. Bob just came into the room. He looked at his brother and said, "Your cell phone rang. I took the liberty of answering it. Detective Contraire would like to speak with you." Mason handed Ironside the phone.

"Ironside," the detective answered.

"Chief, we have located Frank Rousseau. He has been beaten up but he will recover."

"What hospital is he in?" Ironside asked.

"He's not," the detective answered. "He refused to go to the hospital."

Ironside did not like the sound of that. "Where is he then?"

"First I better tell you what happened." Gillis Contraire told Ironside of the events that led to Frank's beating. When he finished, he waited for Ironside's reaction.

"Chief, I think he went looking for Armand Dareau. He is not convinced that Robert Duvalier is still involved in the Revolution. I believe he is going to try and settle that before he leaves for Los Angeles."

"If you speak with him again, tell him to call me."

"I will, Chief. I do have to warn you, if the two men that attacked Frank sign a statement that Robert paid them to do so, I will have to swear out a warrant for his arrest."

"Did Frank press charges?" Ironside inquired.

"He said he wanted to speak with you first."

"Then you can't swear out a warrant until he does."

"Obviously I know that. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Tell Frank to call me as soon as you hear from him."

"I will. And Chief, I am sorry."

Ironside hung up the phone without another word. He turn to Perry and said, "Have Robert come in here."

Della went down the hall and came back with Robert. "You wanted to speak with me, Papa?"

Ironside repeated his conversation with Detective Contraire to Della, Perry and Robert.

"Papa, I assure you I have had nothing to do with the Revolution. I do not know the men who attacked Frank. I do not have an offshore account. The only accounts I have are in Montreal. Someone is setting me up."

"We better find out who is doing it," said Perry, "before they have an iron clad case for murder."


End file.
